


Urges

by Ellynndaria



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-15
Updated: 2012-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-14 07:09:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellynndaria/pseuds/Ellynndaria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How many Urges will Douglas Hawke give into in one night while visiting Anders?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Urges

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place shortly within the first year of the return from the Deep Roads. Thanks for reading.

_Maker, why did I come here?_ Douglas Hawke had been able to stop himself from sneaking away so many nights before, unable to sleep in that revolting rats’ nest Uncle Gamlen had tried to pass off as a bed. A real bed was his now, one unlike any he had ever had slept in before, even dreamed of having before. Loki loved it, but Douglas still couldn’t sleep at night. Before, if he couldn’t take anymore, he went to the Hanged Man, joking and laughing with Varric and Isabela until he felt he could go back to “bed” and pass out. Maybe it was the proximity, much easier to get to the tavern than to Darktown then, where as now… He sighed at the door.  The lamp was lit, but it was the middle of the night. Hopefully Anders was getting some much needed rest, which again begged the question as to what was he doing outside of the clinic? That man pushed himself way too hard, so if Anders was asleep, Douglas should definitely let him do just that.

Ever since their return from the Deep Roads, Douglas had become something of a recluse. Busy work was getting the estate back to its former glory as he tried to give his mother some small piece of happiness while avoiding all the accusing and pitying stares about Bethany. He suddenly felt sick to his stomach again, but not from any illness. No, this was pure guilt. The thought of his sweet sister stuck in the Gallows, after everything their parents and Carver had done to ensure that would never happen, and he had let them all down. All he saw when he closed his eyes anymore was that bastard Cullen, his sister’s large, sad, brown eyes, and his mother’s sobbing form huddled on that disgusting, Lowtown hovel’s floor. What should have been him celebrating getting out of two blight holes with the same sovereign had become a constant source of regret as soon as he had walked back into Uncle Gamlen’s door.

To add to his guilt was Anders.  How had the whole misadventure affected the man who had started to become a very close friend? The blond had hated being down there anyway, and then his worst possible nightmare had come true when the four companions had gotten trapped. He should have taken Bethany to the Deep Roads, not Anders. If he had taken Bethany, his sister wouldn’t be where she was now, of that, Douglas was certain.

Varric and Douglas had tried to keep the spirits up in those dark, dank, sweltering, rank corridors of the ancient dwarven hell. A fun outing with the boys, what a blighted joke.  They also had to keep Fenris and Anders from tearing each other apart, but it had been increasingly difficult as the walls pressed in around them. Douglas had a hard time sleeping in the tunnels, especially with Varric’s snoring, and how Fenris did it with those ears of his was beyond Douglas. Anders seemed to have no better luck; the man seeming to sleep, but tormented by something behind those closed, amber eyes. Douglas tried to ask him about it one night when the mage had awoken in a cold sweat to find the rogue watching him, but Anders had assured he was fine and rolled over for more rest. Douglas didn’t ask again, just watched the other man toss and turn every night while wishing he could help.

Douglas honestly couldn’t remember who had fought the hardest to get that first full breath of fresh air. Who knew a dwarf could run that fast? When they had made it back into the daylight, Anders had seemed so relieved. Tears were present in the other man’s eyes, more so then the blinding sting in everyone else’s, and when he turned to smile at Douglas, the rogue had to fight off the overwhelming desire to pull the mage into his arms for a bear hug. Celebrations were held to a manlier standard, claps on the back and jokes of who would have cracked first to kill the other three. All returned to their own lives once Kirkwall’s gate was behind them, an occasional pause in the months that had passed to catch up, but nothing more than that.

Douglas sighed at the door, fiddling with the picks in his pocket while trying to decide if he really should knock. He shook his head, turning away and heading back to the Darktown entrance of the estate. He had almost made it when he heard the sound of a door opening and the surrounding darkness grew around him. He turned to see Anders after putting out the lamp. The mage looked like he was about to leave, and Douglas watched him a few moments in confusion.

Anders turned and about jumped out of his skin when he saw a shadowy figure out of the corner of his eye. Douglas spoke to put the other man at easy, “Hello, Anders.”

There was a moment’s pause before an uncertain response was given, “Hawke?”

“Yeah.”

The lantern was lit again before Anders turned back to him. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, you know, this Darktown entrance comes in pretty handy for a guy like me,” Douglas chuckled faintly, but anyone that knew him well enough would have been able to tell the mirth wasn’t quite there.

Anders studied him closer. “Are you alright?”

Douglas tried to give him a smile. “I’m fine.”

Anders nodded, but he didn’t seem to be quite convinced. “Everyone has been missing you at the Hanged Man. You didn’t move up to Hightown and forget about us, did you?” Anders smiled to assure him it was only a joke.

“Everyone, huh?” Douglas took a few steps toward the mage and into the lantern’s glow.

Anders seemed to blush slightly in the dim light, but nodded in confirmation. “Everyone.”

“I’ve just been busy. I’m sure I will return to being a pain in the backside in no time.” Anders chuckled. “So, how have you been?”

“Good. Busy too.”

“Seems like it. Can’t even get a break at night, huh?”

Anders looked at him a moment, seeming to be a little surprised by the question. “Oh, I, uh, had some deliveries to make and figured since I was still awake, I would go ahead and do them now instead of waiting until morning.”

Douglas nodded, not letting on he read the lie. “Well, I’ll let you get to it then.” Douglas sounded a little hurt but more so disappointed, but even he wasn’t quite sure why. Was it because Anders lied or because while even being caught outside the mage’s door there wasn’t time for them to talk? The corners of his mouth ticked into something of a smile, and he turned to go back to staring at the ceiling.

“Douglas?”

The rogue paused, his breath catching a moment at his name. He was so rarely called by his given name anymore, but he liked the way it sounded coming from Anders’ lips. He tried to control the effect it had on his heart rate and breathing, both having sped up after the initial pause.

Anders understandably misjudged the rogue’s delayed reaction, stammering again, “I… I’m sorry, Hawke. It just popped out.”

His family name again. Everything deflated, but Douglas glanced over his shoulder with a small smile, saying softly, “It’s alright. I liked it.”

Anders gave one of his lopsided grins that under normal circumstances the rogue would have initiated a flirt with, but he waited instead for the mage to speak again. Anders asked, “Are you sure you are alright?”

Douglas swallowed, his gaze shifting to the dusty ground. He nodded, “Umm, yeah. I’m good.”

Both Anders’ brows shot to his hairline at the response before his forehead furrowed in concern. He snuffed the light again and reopened the clinic. “My door is always open for you, Douglas. Day or night.”

Anders paused in the frame; once again, another perfect opportunity to flirt falling to the wayside. The mage disappeared into the dark depths beyond the entrance while Douglas continued to stare at what he told himself was just dirt. It didn’t take long for the blue eyes to readjust to the gloom, and he glanced into the invitation. Booted feet made their way slowly across the bumpy ground, heading for the clinic door. After a few more seconds of self-convincing, Douglas went inside. “Anders?”

“Back here.” A small lamp lit after the words near the other man, the initial flare blinding for a second before it settled into a flickering ward against the dancing shadows. “Drink?”

Douglas nodded as he proceeded toward the mage. “Yes, please.”

Anders retrieved a bottle and cups, pouring for the two men, and after the offer was graciously received, the blond took a seat on one of the cots. There was a silence between them, somehow awkward and not at the same time. Douglas took a sip of the cheap, brown liquid, the smell assaulting his nose with it unaged roughness. The taste was near as bad, improperly stored, most likely by the bottler during its making, a slight mustiness to it that should have insured the alcohol had never seen the hands of any consumer. Douglas nearly scoffed at himself at the thoughts.  Hadn’t the first bottle he nicked as a kid been just as terrible? And he had gotten pissed off his adolescent ass, but wasn’t that the point of it regardless of its taste in the beginning?

He studied Anders in their silence. The man looked just as tired as he always did, but there he sat, patiently waiting for Douglas to open up. Even the faint glow of the lamp played off the blond hair and warm amber eyes, the shadows cast seeming to caress the stubbled jaw and slender neck. Douglas watched them for a few moments until the thought of himself being what was touching the blond’s cheek popped into his head, and he blinked, looking away to some other shadow in the room. He cleared his throat, he hadn’t come down here to drink ghastly liquor and fantasize. Douglas finally broke the quiet. “I’ve been meaning to ask you how you were doing… since the Deep Roads, I mean.”

Douglas had the sudden urge to kick himself. Yes, he had felt guilty, but the question now seemed idiotic, like he only really cared after months of not seeing the man because he had gotten caught lurking outside.

Anders seemed unoffended by the timing or question; his tone actually seemed a little touched when his response came. “I’m fine. I had a little trouble sleeping the first couple of nights back, but once we were finally out of there, everything was pretty much business as usual.”

Douglas nodded, but his gaze remained elsewhere.  He muttered quietly, “I shouldn’t have taken you down there…” He cut off his regret there; he didn’t want to trouble this already overburdened man any further with his own guilts. _Again, why am I here?_

“I really am fine, and you needed me, right?” Anders’ question held a hint of uncertainty, causing Douglas to look at him again.

Douglas swallowed.  He honestly couldn’t see himself going anywhere without Anders. “Yes, but I had other options. I could have taken more potions, taken Bethany…” He cut himself off again, looking down at his boots. He changed the subject. “Blighted Bartrand.”

Anders studied him, remaining silent as he did so. Speaking softly, Anders said, “None of that was your fault.” His tone seemed to suggest he understood what had not been spoken. “No one could have known what would happen down there… or up here.”

Douglas tensed slightly. “But it could have been prevented. All the nightmares you had, Bethany in the Circle…” Douglas growled, “Fucking Cullen.” He had the sudden urge to watch the Knight-Captain fall to the ground in tattered ribbons, felled by his own axes.

“I will admit being down there didn’t help, but the nightmares… the taint, the darkness… Karl… they were already there… still are.”

Douglas looked at the mage, again wishing he could help the other man. “Do you miss him? Karl, I mean.”

Anders smiled sadly. “Every day. It’s odd, I guess. We hadn’t actually been together for years. Before I ran away from the Circle the last time, I had been in solitary for a year, and Karl was transferred to Kirkwall during that time. I, of course, ran again a short time after my release, trying to make my way here, but the Templars caught me, and then I was made a Warden. The rest you know.” Anders shrugged. “I seem to miss him more now that he is gone then when there was still a chance, still hope.”

Douglas nodded in understanding. “Carver… I never imagined I would actually miss my bratty, little brother, but we had never been apart either. Running from the Templars, protecting Bethany, joining the army, it had all been with him. No matter how much he got on my nerves, it was like I could always count on him to be at my side, but he isn’t anymore. Now, I just feel like I let him down, let them all down.”

The two men settled into silence again, knowing from experience the guilt each was feeling was still too fresh for words to ease away. Douglas forgot himself and took another sip of his drink, and he must have made a horrible face, because Anders chuckled.

Douglas smiled at him, enjoying the sound of the other man’s laughter. Anders smiled back, saying cheerfully, “It’s an acquired taste, to be certain. Or maybe it has killed my ability to actually taste…” He stood up to take back the cup so Douglas wouldn’t make the same mistake twice, and the rogue handed it over readily. Setting the glasses aside, the men faced each other again. A strand of blond hair had fallen loose when Anders had turned away, lying softly against his cheek. Douglas’ obsessive compulsive nature kicked in, and he reached out, tucking it back behind the mage’s ear. As his hand started to pull away, Douglas gave into another urge, one he had had earlier, and he rested his hand lightly against the stubbled jaw. Anders didn’t object or turn away, but just continued to look back into Douglas’ eyes. Just being with this man made Douglas feel better, and the fingers of his hands lightly brushed against the blond’s cheek. He wondered how many urges he dared give into this night, and Douglas raked his bottom lip with his teeth slightly.

Douglas had started to lean in for a kiss, but a feminine voice near the door stopped him. “Anders?!” The young woman had come into the clinic at a run. “Oh, thank the Maker! When you didn’t show up I was so worried, and then the lantern being out, and… Oh.” She stopped short, her thoughts had poured out of her mouth as fast as her legs had carried her in, and Douglas dropped his hand quickly and took a step back.

Anders suddenly seemed slightly nervous. Douglas looked between the two other people in the room, and it all made sense. A late night rendezvous with a pretty girl, and now Douglas felt like a blighted idiot. Anders told the girl, “I’ll be out in a second.”

She nodded and left to wait outside the door. A pang shot through Douglas’ heart and stomach. He was jealous. The rogue swallowed, looking at the ground. “I should go. I have kept you long enough.”

“No, it’s alright.” Anders sounded a bit disappointed.

“I’ll see you around.” Douglas made a hasty retreat for the door before he made a bigger fool of himself.

“Douglas…” The rogue paused, looking reluctantly back at Anders. “I hope you mean that. Don’t be such a stranger. Like I said before, my door is always open, so stop by anytime.”

Douglas nodded his agreement and forced a smile. “Of course.” He finished his exit, making back for the estate quickly and knowing he had just lied to the mage.

Once he was back in his bed, he stared at the fireplace from his curled up position on his side. His thoughts before sleep were still plagued by his prior guilts, but now when he slept his dreams were filled with someone else. Anders.


End file.
